Kitty Love
by AwkwardJello
Summary: It all started when John got hired as the Washingtons' cat sitter. Kitty Cat AU where Alex is an actual tomcat.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**I need to stop getting inspired to write all these Lams fanfics lmao.

* * *

"Hey, waiter!"

John sighed and turned around. "Yes, sir?"

The angry man scowled at him. "There's a fly in my soup!" he said, as if it was all John's fault.

John dipped his head in apology. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll get you another soup ready." He took the bowl in his hands and left for the kitchen. As he walked away, he heard the man grumble to his companion, "I told you this place was bad news."

When John came back with a fresh bowl of soup, the man ate it and then abruptly left. He didn't even leave a tip. His friend paid and followed the man out the door.

"Come back again soon!" John called after them, since that was what the waiters were supposed to do, to show this restaurant had a "friendly atmosphere." In reality, John secretly hoped the man never came back again.

He entered the kitchen. Peggy came bounding up to him. The younger girl had a huge grin on her face.

"What's up now?" John asked.

Peggy showed him the cream pie in her hands. "There's this guy who wants to propose to his girlfriend, so he asked the chefs to put the ring in this pie."

"Aw, that's so sweet."

Peggy giggled. "I know, right?" She and John came out of the kitchen. "They're over there." She pointed over at a young couple sitting near one of the restaurants' windows. A lit candle sat on the table between them. "They even have a candle. So romantic."

"So… you gonna give 'em the cream pie or what?" John inquired.

"Oh yeah!" Peggy hurried over to the couple, and placed the cream pie in front of the girl. She winked at the man and hurried away back to John. "Let's see how it goes."

As the two waiters watched, the girl took a bite of her pie. Her eyes widened when she felt something hard in her mouth. She spit it out and stared in astonishment at the diamond ring in her hand. She raised a quizzical eyebrow at her boyfriend, who took the ring and got down on one knee. The girl started crying tears of joy, and practically tackled the man, who slid the ring onto her finger.

"Finally," John whispered, more to himself than to Peggy. "Something wholesome for my shitty evening."

Peggy sighed. "Can't wait for the day _I _get married. It will be so romantic. Maria and I will say our wedding vows on a beach, and there will be a sunset, and the little flower girl will come skipping down the aisle…" While Peggy was busy fantasizing about her dream wedding, John's thoughts were elsewhere.

_A wedding, huh?_ he thought. _It would be nice to get married. _His eye caught some movement on the far side of the restaurant. "Looks like some customers are done with their meal."

He walked over to a table where a group of girls his age were preparing to go. One of the girls saw him approaching, and nudged a second girl. The second girl looked up, and her eyes widened upon seeing John. The first girl whispered something into Girl #2's ear, making Girl #2 blush.

"You ladies done with your meal?" John asked.

Girl #1 giggled. "Yeah, here's our check." She handed a check to John, and he noticed the napkin she subtlety snuck into his hand as well. There was a name and number written in pen on the napkin. John raised an eyebrow at the girls, and Girl #2 blushed a deep red. She shyly looked away.

Oh boy. "I'm sorry," John said. "But I'm already taken." Girl #2's smile faded, but she nodded understandingly. Girl #1, however, wasn't done yet.

"Oh come on, give her a chance, will ya? Can your girlfriend cook and clean as well as Lyla? Can she do quick math calculations in her head? Can she sing the entire soundtrack of 21 Chump Street? I doubt she's even that pretty."

"Amy," Girl #2 said. "That's enough. He already said no. Let's go."

But Amy ignored her. Instead, she leaned in close to John, who suddenly felt uncomfortable and took a step back. "Lyla's been waiting a _long_ time to ask you out, y'know. How 'bout you ditch that girlfriend of yours and date her instead?"

John glared at her. _Wow. Rude. _"I'm sorry I rejected your friend, ok? But there's nothing I can do about it. And by the way—" John gave her a coy smile. "My _boyfriend _can do all of those things."

There was a moment of silence before it finally sunk in. Amy's face darkened. "Oh, he's a homo," she drawled, and turned to go. "Come on, Lylie. There's plenty of fish in the sea. He wasn't even that good looking anyway." She marched away, leaving an angry John fuming in her wake.

"Sorry about my friend," Lyla apologized, seeing the look of bloody murder on John's face. "She just shipped us so hard. Maybe too hard." She twirled a strand of her hair. "It's ok that you don't like me back. I was kind of preparing myself for rejection anyway."

John's gaze softened. At least this chick was nice. "I hope you do find someone in the future who will return your feelings. Sorry I'm not the one."

Lyla laughed. "It's okay. And I wish the best for you and your boyfriend." She waved. "Bye!"

John watched her go, then turned to clean up the table, unaware that he was smiling to himself. Maybe people weren't so bad after all.

When the restaurant was finally closed for the day, John was well worn out. He said bye to Peggy and started his walk home.

_I wonder if the pharmacy is still open_, John thought. _Who am I kidding, the sign literally says "Open 24 Hours." _He stopped at said pharmacy and peeked through the window. The pharmacy clerk was a boy with jet black hair in a manbun. Not the boy John was looking for. _He must've went home. _He started walking a bit faster after that, anticipation fueling his step.

Eventually, John made it to his apartment. He rattled his keys into the keyhole and opened the door. The lights were already on, and John could smell something cooking on the stove.

"I'm back!" he called loudly, then waited.

"Mrow!" A cat's head popped up from John's couch. It was white with a brown back and brown-tipped ears and tail. "Meow!" The cat jumped onto the top of the couch and stared at John with its big, brown eyes.

John smiled. "Hey, Alex." Suddenly, the cat leaped off the couch toward John. Poof! It suddenly disappeared in midair, replaced by a man who tackled John to the floor. The man, whose messy brown hair was falling out of his ponytail, grinned down at John.

"Gotcha," he declared triumphantly.

John groaned. "That actually hurt, y'know," he wheezed, and it was true. He felt like the wind just got knocked out of him.

Alex rolled his eyes. "What took you so long? I missed you." His eyes narrowed. "You smell like another human."

John snorted. "Of course I smell like other humans. I work at a restaurant, dummy." When Alex continued staring suspiciously at him, he sighed. "Okay, so this one girl asked me out today." Alex's teasing smile vanished. "Oh, come on. Don't give me that look." John reached a hand up and stroked Alex's cheek with it. He smiled. "You know you're the only one for me."

Alex relaxed, and he bent down to kiss John, burying his hand into John's curls. John wrapped his other hand around Alex's waist and pulled him closer. The crappy day melted away into the back of his head, and he forgot the grumpy customer and the rude girl. All that was on his mind was Alex.

John also almost forgot that he and Alex were lying halfway out the door, so that any passersby could see this makeout session happening right in the hall. He disconnected his lips from Alex, much to the other boy's disappointment.

"Hey Alex, can you get off of me for a sec? I need to close the door."

Alex let out a sigh of frustration, then scrambled off of John. He slammed the door shut, almost taking John's torso with it, and bolted all the locks. He looked back at John, clearly annoyed. "Happy now?"

"Yeah." John trudged over to the couch and plopped down. He let his head loll back, and closed his eyes. A moment later, he felt Alex sit down next to him.

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

"Bad day at work today?"

"Yeah."

"Hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Lucky for you, I made us some dinner already!"

"It's salmon, isn't it?"

"How did you know?"

"'Cuz that's all you ever want to eat for dinner."

Alex pouted. "I also included some spinach and eggs." He sniffed the air, and his eyes widened. "Oh shit, I left it on the stove for too long." He hurried over and turned off the stove. "Alright, dinner's ready, love!" He happily sat back down on the couch again, and handed a plate full of food to John.

John put a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Alex watched him expectantly. "Well?" he asked.

"It's pretty good. A bit burnt, but you're getting better."

Alex puffed up with pride. "Ha! I'm pretty awesome, after all."

John smiled fondly at his boyfriend. "Yes, you are," he said softly, and nuzzled his head into Alex's shoulder.

Alex blushed, but embraced it nonetheless. "Aw shucks, now you're making me blush."

"No, really. Thanks for always being there for me."

Alex kissed the top of his head. "You're welcome, love."

The two of them sat in silence for a while. "How long has it been?" John asked in wonder. "Three years? Feels like only yesterday when we first met."

Alex nodded. "Yeah."

"You were naked," John recalled, chuckling to himself.

"And you tried to hit me with a bat," Alex scolded.

"I thought I was hallucinating."

"And I thought I was dreaming."

"Funny how these things work, right?"

"Yeah."

"And look at us now." John gestured to themselves. "Cuddling on a couch. Three years ago, I wouldn't even let you go near my bed."

Alex grinned. "But you won't get in bed unless I'm already in there with you." He sighed. "Three years..."

* * *

**A/N:**So this is a Kitty Cat AU I thought up in math class a while back. I wondered what Alex would look like as a cat and boom! This fanfic was born. I'll be trying out some new ships in this fic as well(you can already see I'm including Meggy for the first time) and I'll hope you'll enjoy! Sorry if the quality is bad. I'm leaving for a trip, but I wanted to post something I leave, so here it is!


	2. Chapter 2

****TRIGGER WARNING: Homophobic slurs****

* * *

_Three years ago…_

John hissed as he applied the ointment to his arm. The bruise was already swelling, turning an ugly shade of purple. This was the seventh one he had gotten this week, along with the ones on his stomach, arms, knees, and cheek. He looked in the mirror and winced at the pathetic-looking band-aid on his left cheek.

_At least he didn't get my nose_, he thought as he gingerly touched the band-aid. _Ow, still hurts. _Their words still rang in his ears.

_Faggot! Go die in a hole! You deserve every black eye I give you! Should've just given us the money, homo!_

John squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Thankfully, the school day was over, so he wouldn't be taking any more hits anytime soon. _Just gotta cover this up. _He walked out of the bathroom and entered his room. He got out the makeup kit and started gently applying concealer to the bruises on his arms.

_Ding dong_. Someone was ringing the doorbell. John quickly pulled down his rolled-up sleeve and made his way to his apartment door. "John!" a muffled girl's voice was calling from outside. "Open up! I got you food!" John opened the door, revealing a smiling girl with wavy blonde hair on the other side.

John smiled back at her. "Hey, Martha. Good to see you."

Martha grinned, flashing her straight white teeth. "Right back at ya, John." She stepped into the apartment, and John closed the door behind her with a click.

"So what brings you here?" John asked his visitor.

She rolled her eyes. "Didn't you hear me? I said I got food for you." She held up the plastic "Have a nice day!" bag she had brought with her. Something box-shaped was sitting inside it, and a heavy aroma floated out of it.

John's mouth watered, but he hesitated to take the food. "You know I can cook for myself, right?"

Martha shrugged. "Yeah, but Mom insisted on making something for you anyway." She firmly pushed the bag into John's arms. "Just take it. You know Mom won't take no for an answer."

"Ow, it's hot!" John winced at the sudden burst of pain in his arm and almost dropped the food. He set it down on his coffee table. "Well, thanks anyway for the food, Martha."

But Martha was frowning now. "John, did you get into a fight again?" she asked, her forehead wrinkled worriedly.

"Um, no," John fibbed. He stiffened when Martha reached out and tapped his arm.

She gasped. "You _are _hurt!" She looked around frantically. "Where do you keep your first-aid kit?"

"Martha, there's no need—"

"Where," Martha growled slowly. "Do you keep your first-aid kit?" John gulped. There was no avoiding the situation with Martha Manning.

"It's… in the bathroom," he answered finally. Immediately, Martha took off for the bathroom, and returned no less than ten seconds later with the first-aid.

"Let me see that arm," Martha demanded.

"Martha, I told you. I'm fine—"

"Let me see that arm, John, or I'm telling Mom," Martha warned.

"Gah, fine." The last thing John wanted to do was worry Mrs. Manning and have the older woman come barging into his apartment, asking over and over if he was alright. He did not like being fussed over like a small child with a scraped knee.

Martha grabbed John's arm, then apologized when he let out a yelp of pain. She rolled up his sleeve and squinted at the partially hidden bruises. "You tried covering them up again, didn't you?" John was silent. "Ugh, makeup is not even supposed to be used this way. Wait here." She went to the bathroom, and John heard the sink turn on. A moment later, Martha emerged with a wet towel. She wiped the concealer off John's arm, and started reapplying ointment.

"I already put ointment there, y'know," John muttered.

"And I don't care. I'm gonna put _more_ ointment on there now." She continued spreading the medicine over John's arm. "Done. Are there any more bruises?"

"Uh…"

"I take that as a yes." Martha rolled up John's other sleeve. "Seriously, John, you need to stop getting into so many fights."

John snorted. "Kinda hard to do when everyone knows you're gay, _and _everyone happens to be homophobic."

Martha glared at him. "I'll have you know that _I _support LGBTQ+ rights, thank you very much." She shook her head. "This is getting out of hand. And here I was, thinking all your troubles would go away once you moved out of the dorms." John pressed his lips together tightly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring that up."

John sighed. "It's okay." They stayed silent, before Martha spoke again.

"By the way, I didn't want to say this, but, uh, your rent is due in three days." John sucked in a breath. "Sorry, John. I mean, Mom is willing to give you more time to get the money, but Dad says it wouldn't be fair to extend your rent due date while everyone else has to pay up right away."

"I know," John said quietly. "He's right. I need to stop stalling time and get a job." He tried to stand up, but Martha firmly sat him back down.

"Don't get up now! Wait until I'm done!" she hissed.

"Tch, Bossypants."

"Shut up, Freckle Face."

* * *

One day had passed, and John still didn't have a job. His application got rejected twice, and an application he submitted to some restaurant was still pending. By the end of the day, he got so frustrated, he grabbed his coat and went out for a jog.

The streets were quiet that night, and the only sources of light were the streetlights overhead. It was like the world had finally answered John's prayer for peace, when the silence was shattered by a sudden meow. It was soon followed by more meows, and the occasional "Yeow!"

Curious(and a little concerned), John followed the cat noises towards an alley, and peeked around the corner. At first, he saw nothing. But then he did a double take when he saw a group of four, maybe five, cats staring back at him. The cats had ceased their yeowing and trained their almond-shaped eyes on John.

John felt shivers run down his spine. He found this strange phenomenon extremely unsettling. _This is not normal. I'm out of here. _

He quickly ducked out of the alley and started power-walking all the way back to his apartment. His peripheral vision caught on something white, though, and he slowed down. Taped to a pole was a flyer. It read: HELP WANTED-Housekeeper who is not allergic to cats, Is available for however long you prefer(though payment will vary), Call…" And there was a phone number. John whipped out his phone and copied it into his contacts, saving it as "Washington."

* * *

The next morning, John's hand trembled as he dialed the number. He thought it would be rude if he had dialed it right away last night, so he waited until 7 in the morning to do it. Then it occurred to him that Washington was probably still asleep, and he panicked until the person on the other end picked up.

"Hello?" a deep voice said. "This is George Washington." _Oh man_, John thought. _This guy sounds like someone who's not to be messed with._

"H-hello, Mr. Washington," John greeted nervously. "My name's John Laurens, and I saw your flyer for a housekeeper?" _Wtf, why did I say that like a question? _"I was, um, wondering if the job was, er, still available." _I want to bang my head on a fucking toaster now._

There was silence on the other end, and for a moment, John was sure Mr. Washington was coming up with a way to gently tell him the job was already taken, or that he had changed his mind and didn't need a housekeeper after all. Or to harshly tell him to scram and never call him again. That was a possibility.

Finally, after several minutes of sweating profusely, John heard Mr. Washington say, "Oh, finally! It's about time we got a new housekeeper!" New _housekeeper? So people applied here before?_ "So when are you available to come to our house?"

"Wait, I got the job?" John asked. _That was quick. _"You're not gonna give me an interview?"

"What is there to interview you about?" Washington said. "You're just keeping our house clean. You know how to do chores, right?"

"Um, yeah." _Halp, I'm dying inside now. _Something else occurred to John. "Um, Mr. Washington?"

"Yes?"

"The flyer mentioned an allergy to cats. Is there—"

"Oh yes! I forgot! As a housekeeper, you're going to also have to take care of our cat. Don't worry, he doesn't bite." He let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Unless you're up to no good, that is. So"—his voice turned serious again—-"When are you available, and for how long?"

"I can actually come today. I'm available on the weekends, and I can stay the whole day."

"Wonderful! Can you come now?"

_So soon? Ugh, but I need that money. Better than nothing. _"Um, right now?"

"Sure, why not? Unless you have something to do first, then we can be flexible."

"No, no, no! I can come over now!" _Need that money._

"Excellent! Can't wait to meet you, John."

"Y-you too, Mr. Washington."

"Well, I have to get going now," Mr. Washington said. "See you in a bit."

"Yeah, goodbye." Mr. Washington hung up, and John's heart hammered. He stood staring at his phone, trying to register what this meant for him. _I did it. I got a job. Now I just gotta not fuck this up. _

He grabbed his backpack with his unfinished homework and threw his wallet and phone in there. Then he grabbed the flyer with Washington's address on it and headed out.

* * *

"_Holy shit, this mansion is big af_" was John's first thought when he arrived at the Washingtons'. The mansion was big and white, with two floors, each adorned with numerous windows.

_And I'm supposed to clean the whole thing? _John gulped as he approached the door, and rang the doorbell. _Ding dong._

There were footsteps on the other side, and then the door opened with a _ka-chak_. John came face-to-face with a bald man whose stern eyes scrutinized John up and down.

"Hello," the man said, and John recognized the same deep voice he heard during his phone call. "Are you the new housekeeper?"

"Erm, yes?" John answered.

Washington continued staring at John with his hard eyes, before he nodded curtly and extended his hand. "George Washington. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said, his brown eyes boring into John's hazel ones.

"The pleasure is all mine," John responded, his polite instincts kicking in, and he shook the older man's hand. "J-John Laurens." He attempted to smile to show his friendliness, but when the bigger man's lips didn't even turn up, John went back to having a neutral expression on his face.

Mr. Washington motioned for John to come in, and John obliged. _This man is scary_, he thought as he stepped into the mansion and took in its contents.

The living room was the first thing that greeted John as he walked further into the mansion. A more-than-comfortable-looking couch sat in the center of the large living room, its cushions decorated with fluffy pillows. John got the sudden urge to run over and squish the pillows. He saw the couch was flanked by several other soft chairs and a coffee table. All the furniture were facing a black TV stationed on the other side of the living room. Somewhere farther back, John could make out what looked like the refrigerator in a kitchen.

"We're going to get going now," Washington said abruptly. "Your orders are to clean every room in this house. Make sure they're spotless. You can find the equipment you need in the kitchen back there."

"W-Wait, you're going now?" John stammered, then wished he hadn't.

Washington raised an eyebrow. "Is there a problem?"

"N-no! It's just, I don't know, this is so sudden, and I just got here, I just-"

"Ah, you must be John," a sweet voice called out suddenly. A short, plump woman emerged out of the kitchen. Curly white hair sat on her head like a soft cloud. The woman's rosy cheeks matched the delighted smile on her face. "Martha Washington," she introduced herself. "But you can call me Martha."

Mrs. Washington extended a hand to John, just like her husband had, and John noticed the furry bundle she cradled in her other arm. A brown and white cat peeked out at him, its brown-tipped ears wiggling slightly as its round head swiveled to look at John better. "Mrow?"

"Nice to meet you," John said as he shook Mrs. Washington's hand. He could feel the cat's brown eyes staring into the depths of his soul. He glanced briefly at the cat before focusing on Mrs. Washington again.

Mrs. Washington chuckled. "I see you've taken an interest in Alexander." She held out the cat to John. "You can pet him if you want. He won't bite."

John hesitated, before reaching out his hand. His fingers brushed Alexander's soft furry head, and the cat held still for a moment. Then he leaned into his touch and purred contentedly.

"Aw, he likes you," Mrs. Washington cooed. "He normally doesn't like men, but I see he's made an exception for you." She leaned in close to John. "I lost count of the number of times he scratched George," she whispered. "I think the poor kitty's scared of him."

John stifled a laugh. As if the cat heard him, Alexander let out an indignant yowl and nipped at John's fingers. John reared back in surprise at the sharp sting of the cat's teeth.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry!" Mrs. Washington apologized quickly. "Are you okay, dear?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." John examined the small bite marks on his hand, which were starting to fade now.

"Alexander," Mrs. Washington scolded. "Bad kitty." The cat merely let out an unfazed meow. "You better get along with John now. He's going to be taking care of you for the rest of the day." She turned back to John. "You can find his cat food and bowls in the kitchen," she informed the boy. "Just fill one bowl with food and the other with water. He's house trained, so you don't need to worry about him pooping everywhere. He does _not _need a bath. He really hates water. Ah, what else?" She thought for a moment. "Oh yes! He knows to use a scratching post, but he still claws the furniture sometimes. Just pick him up and get him to his scratching post if you see him tearing up the sofa."

She then kissed the cat on the head, then gently placed him on the ground. "Momma's gonna get going now. See you tonight, my love."

Alexander stared up at Mrs. Washington, and curled his sleek body around her legs. She let out a soft chuckle. "Momma loves you too, Alexander." She stepped over the cat, and walked to the door, where Mr. Washington was waiting. She turned back to John. "Any questions before we go?"

John shook his head. "No, I think I got it."

She smiled, then her eyes widened. "Oh goodness, I forgot again!" She fished around in her pocket, and John heard something jangling. Next thing he knew, Mrs. Washington had placed a set of keys in his hand. "These are our spare keys. Feel free to go outside if you want. You can also help yourself to the food in the fridge."

"But don't stay outside for too long," Mr. Washington warned in his rumbling voice. "And don't think you can gobble up everything in sight. And if you take _anything_, I will not only fire you, but also charge you for attempted theft. Do I make myself clear?"

John gulped. "Y-yes, sir."

"George!" Mrs. Washington exclaimed. "Don't scare the poor boy!"

Mr. Washington crossed his arms. "I just don't want anyone breaking in and stealing from us. It's already bad enough that our last two housekeepers tried to sneak money out of the mansion. Plus, someone keeps disabling our security cameras." John could've sworn he saw the man's eyes flick briefly to Alexander, but the movement was too quick for him to tell. He turned to leave. "It was nice meeting you, John. Good-bye."

Mrs. Washington was about to follow him, but stopped in the doorway. "I'm sorry for my husband's behavior. He may be frightening at first," she told John. "But he's actually a really nice man once you get to know him. He's just on edge right now."

Threatening someone he just hired certainly don't sound nice to John. "I'll keep that in mind," he said simply.

Mrs. Washington smiled. "It was a pleasure meeting you, dear." Her eyes twinkled excitedly. "I know! When we get back tonight, I'll bake cookies for you."

"Oh! You don't have to—"

"I _insist_," she said. "I can tell you're still uncomfortable around us. I'll make my famous oatmeal cookies, to make it up to you."

"Mrs. Washington, you really don't have to…" John trailed off when he saw Mrs. Washington wasn't set on changing her mind. Finally, he sighed. "I'd love that."

She smiled. "See you tonight, John." And the plump woman walked out the door. John looked through the windows. The Washingtons got into an expensive-looking car, and drove away. He was alone.

"Mrow?" Alright, he wasn't _quite_ alone.


End file.
